


To Keep It, You Must Give It First

by DiamondWings



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Finding a spouse through Riddles, Light Fae Minho, M/M, Mentions of executions of irrelevant side characters, Riddles, Shadow Fae Chan, They were not worthy, Turandot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22970560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondWings/pseuds/DiamondWings
Summary: Prince Minho of the Court of Light is looking for a spouse. Well, he's forced to look for a spouse, even though the last thing he wants is to get married. So, he came up with a way to make sure no one who tried for his hand would pass his tests, allowing him to remain unmarried. Unfortunately for him, he didn't pay enough attention to what lurked in the shadows, and a Promise given cannot be broken...
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 47
Kudos: 206





	To Keep It, You Must Give It First

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for @EmperorMinhyun2 on Twitter.

Wisps of clouds drifted lazily across the afternoon sky, not providing any relief from the summer sun at all. A gentle breeze made it bearable, however, rippling through the tall grass of the meadow Chan had chosen to rest in. Chewing on the end of a tall ear of grass, he blinked lazily as he watched the clouds drift by, not in any hurry to abandon his spot any time soon despite long since having lost track of the time he’d already spent laying there.

His ears perked up when the sound of distant voices reached him; not that that was enough to get him to move. He merely focused his hearing on the voices, trying to figure out where their owners might be from and where they were headed before he expended any energy moving unnecessarily. A slight tension took hold of his body, revealing his state of alertness when the voices slowly drifted closer and became more discernible.

“You’re going voluntarily? Couldn’t be me. I couldn’t care less about the prince of Light. I hope to fail pre-selection already; there’s no way I’ll get the riddles right.”

The first sentence Chan could discern completely piqued his interest. What was that about the Prince of Light? And riddles?

“Yeah, I’ve heard the riddles are supposed to be impossible to solve.” Another voice followed.

“I have to give it a try anyway. It’s my only chance to redeem myself and have my family recognize me as their own again.”

“If you fail to answer the riddles correctly, you’ll die; you know that, don’t you?”

“My family will most likely disown me if I fail pre-selection. But I’d rather be disowned than dead! I’m even considering committing some kind of crime beforehand, so I’ll fail for sure…”

“That’s you; I want my family to pardon me and reinstate me in their ranks. And for that, I need to marry that princeling.”

Chan scoffed quietly. ‘If your family doesn’t recognize you without you risking your life and marrying someone you don’t want to because of them, they are not worth you risking your life and making that sacrifice in the first place, foolish child…’ he thought to himself, but continued listening as the voice of a rather passionate subject drifted over.

“Do you care about prince Minho at all? He has feelings, too, you know! He’s not some object, not just a means to an end!”

“Oooh, you in love or something? If you think about trying for his hand just because of that, knock it out of your head. He’s a cold-hearted bastard and won’t give a rat’s ass about you, should you end up married to him!”

“Yeah! He’s a spoiled bastard, through and through. Nothing you could do for him would ever be good enough in his eyes. He’ll treat you like shit if you show the slightest weakness.”

“That’s right. I plan to let him know right away who’ll be in control in this household. And it won’t be him!”

“You gotta admit, he’s a fine piece of ass, though!”

Loud laughter and an indignant cry that was quickly drowned out answered the last one, and Chan shook his head in disgust at the crudeness and prejudice the group was displaying. He might not know the prince of Light personally, and while he belonged to the enemy court to the one he was born to himself, he despised people judging others solely for what status they were born to; he’d suffered enough from that kind of prejudice all his life himself for being born a bastard.

Having heard enough of the group’s gossip, he used what little shadow the tall grass provided and slinked off the meadow, under the trees, where the deeper shadows allowed him to melt into them completely and travel far away from the group quickly.

He did manage to pick up and piece together a few interesting bits from the group’s conversation, though: so, apparently, the Court of Light was marrying off Prince Minho, huh… And they were using the old riddle method to find a passable suitor. How very typical! What intrigued him, however, was that supposedly death awaited whoever failed to answer the riddles correctly. And there was a pre-selection?

Well, of course there would be, even if they proclaimed anyone could take the riddles, they would still make sure not everyone made it far enough to take the riddles in the first place. He was curious, now, about what the procedure would be in the capital, and travelled quickly towards the Court of Light.

By evening, Chan reached the outside of the city fortress the royal family of the Light fae called home. Despite the late hour, the fortress was illuminated bright as day; clearly an attempt to keep shadow fae at bay. Chan could only scoff at the attempt; the more light there was, the deeper the shadows, and the deeper the shadows, the easier it was for a shadow fae to travel through them.

Without alerting a single guard, Chan slipped into the fortress and to the central plaza in front of the palace.

Quite a bit of a crowd continued gathered on the plaza despite the late hour, surrounding a raised, heavily guarded stage.

“Let’s begin; no more chit-chat. You have one attempt to answer each of my riddles; though I bet you won’t even be able to get the answer to the first one right! You’ll never see it, even though it’s right in front of you!” Prince Minho sneered derisively at a fae clad entirely in blue; likely someone from the Court of Water.

“We shall see! Bring forth the first riddle, my prince!” The fae proclaimed confidently, and a weary sigh left the prince’s lips, his shoulders dropping.

“Wrong answer. Execute them.” He waved with a bored expression, turning to leave the stage.

“What! Wait! You didn’t even ask your riddle yet!” The fae protested, struggling as they were seized by the guards.

Prince Minho threw a half-glance over his shoulder back at the water fae. “But I did. It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention.” Resuming his trek off the raised stage, the prince waved at his guards. “You know what to do.”

Ignoring the water fae’s protests, the guards dragged them to the back area of the stage, onto yet another raised block. ‘Royalty’, Chan thought, watching from his spot in the crowd where he was merely one face among many, as the fae was made to stand on the block. Only royalty got the honour of being allowed to remain standing during their execution. Not that that helped them in any way, in the end, either, since no body would remain standing for long once the head was severed.

The crowd watched on in morbid fascination as the executioner approached the desolate water royalty and separated their head from their body with one swift cut of a long sword. By the time the body slumped to the ground, Chan had long since found his way out of the crowd, shrouded in shadows once more as he followed the prince.

It was a dirty trick, the one the prince had used, but it was nothing Chan wouldn’t have expected from someone belonging to the notoriously second most cunning court of them all. The Court of Light was second only to the court that had birthed Chan himself when it came to treachery and trickery, even if they liked to shine themselves in the most pure and righteous of lights.

Chan scoffed to himself, shaking his head. Of course, there would be trickery involved in finding a spouse for the prince. The search, and especially all the failed attempts, would prove beneficial in many different ways, in the end. Other courts would be weakened by losing their members that had failed to answer the riddles; when a spouse was found eventually, they could be sure they were as cunning as them, fitting right into their rows; and should no one pass the test, the prince could eventually even choose to rule by himself, for lack of someone worthy to sit by his side.

While Chan despised the dishonest ways they used, he was still intrigued enough to want to find out what the other two riddles would be. The first one had been easy, but he didn’t expect anyone to answer it correctly in the moment of pressure so he could hear the second. He had to find out a different way to hear it if he wanted to know what it would be.

Sticking to the shadows, he watched from afar where the prince’s steps led him, eventually finding him returning to his quarters in the castle. Once he knew where he had to go, it was easy for Chan to sneak closer, hiding out of sight as he listened in on what the prince had to say to his attendant, as the other fae helped him out of his ceremonial robes.

“That’s four of them, today alone. I’ve already lost count of how many have lost their lives since all of this started. Is this really justified?” To Chan’s surprise, the prince sounded dejected.

“Only you can answer that, my prince. It is your marriage after all; do you want someone to answer the riddles correctly, or not?”

The prince huffed, staring daggers at his robes as the attendant hung them up to air them out, smoothing out any wrinkles there might be.

“I don’t! I don’t want to get married!” The prince spat vehemently, and the attendant nodded sagely.

“See. That’s why you chose the riddles you did in the first place. One that’s unexpected, one age old paradox without an answer, and one impossible guess. It is nigh impossible for someone to answer all three correctly. Until there is no one left willing to try, the killings will continue.”

The look on the princely face was equal parts disgusted and desperate.

“Why are there so many fools who insist on trying, anyway? What is so good about marrying me in the first place?!”

The attendant shook his head.

“You might be third in line for the throne, but you still belong to the most powerful of all the courts. Even a spouse to the third son of the court would still rank higher among the courts than a seasoned king of any other.”

The prince grimaced, then sighed as he let himself fall onto the ridiculously sized bed in the centre of the room.

“Third son, most powerful court, blah blah… Who cares about all that! I’d rather be a beggar, a vagabond, travelling the realms on my own with no more than the clothes on my back than live among all these esteemed lordships with their fake smiles and two-faced compliments, their relentless intrigues and back-stabbing! How can all these fools not see that they are trying to marry into a nest of snakes that will tear them apart before they even get a foot past the threshold of this castle, even if they were to answer all my riddles!”

The attendant shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “When the deceitful face looks beautiful and pure, who wouldn’t want to believe it, even when it holds a dagger to one’s throat?”

That attendant was a smart one, and Chan knew instinctively that he was one to avoid when he snuck into the palace. He would surely be the one making his life hard as he tried to find the remaining two riddles, and judging by the close relationship he seemed to have with the prince, he was probably the only one aside from the prince himself who knew what the riddles were.

Having heard enough from those two for the time being, too, Chan left his perch and instead went on a search for a way into the castle that wouldn’t alert the guards and simultaneously not require him to jump through the shadows; he was only a bastard, after all, his abilities to travel the shadows through solid obstacles were limited.

It was late night and the palace deep in slumber when Chan eventually found a way into the castle. Many of the lights had been since extinguished, torches and candles burned out, submerging the castle in shadows that allowed Chan to move much more freely.

The prince’s quarters would be the obvious choice for him to start his search, but he found them heavily guarded, and light still shone brightly in the hallway in front of the door, not allowing enough shadows for him to sneak through.

There was no way into the quarters at this time, but Chan was not discouraged.

He tried for the prince’s study next. It was guarded, too, but there was only one guard, and they were on their way to fall asleep.

With a gentle nudge of his own powers, shadows laden with sleep and dreams, Chan coerced the tired guard into slumber before slipping past him and into the dark study.

He found himself supressing an amused chuckle as he looked around. The prince was quite the messy boy, judging by the state of his study. And he obviously didn’t like people touching his things, or else his attendant would surely have picked up after him in here already. As it was, it looked like a whirlwind had raged inside the room, books and scrolls, loose sheets of paper and notes littering every possible surface, and even the floor. Other than the prince himself, Chan doubted anyone would be able to find anything in this room.

Sure, that didn’t make Chan’s life easier, either, but his mission wouldn’t have been easier even if the prince had been a neat person and kept his study prim and proper.

Actually, he found after he skimmed over the open books littering the desk, maybe the state of disarray of the study would help him, after all.

The desk was covered with books about paradoxes, and hadn’t the attendant mentioned that the second riddle was a paradox? Clearly, the prince had done his research and not cleaned up the results after he was done.

Carefully, Chan surveyed the pages in front of him, finding one and another paradox underlined or circled, as well as notes on the floor where those paradoxes had been copied. Most notes were crumpled, though, some crossed out, clearly discarded, and Chan cross-referenced them with the highlighted titles he found in the books and scrolls.

Apparently, the prince had done quite the extensive research, yet found paradox after paradox to be too easily refuted, the answers too simple to reach through logic. Until, as dawn neared, the first light of the new day starting to break through the darkness, Chan found the one that seemed like it had passed the prince’s careful scrutiny. The answer to it was one that wasn’t too hard to find, Chan thought, but it was one he didn’t imagine anyone who found it would dare give; anyone but someone who didn’t care about offending the prince in front of a crowd, anyway.

Footsteps in the hallway alerted Chan of the rising day, and voices berating the sleeping guard droned through the door, letting him know that that way to escape was cut off.

Chan cursed to himself as he looked around the chaotic room; there was nowhere to hide should anyone come into the room. The diffuse light of dawn illuminated the whole room, but wasn’t yet bright enough to cast any shadows he could hide in. His only chance was-

He darted behind the door in the precise moment it opened, a guard holding a bright torch peeking into the room.

‘Fool’ Chan thought. The torch cast deep shadows into the room, and Chan melted seamlessly into them, hidden where the guard would otherwise even had a chance to find him.

“You’re lucky it was me who found you, sleeping out here. And that no one seems to have taken advantage of your slight to mess with the prince’s things. I won’t tell on you, but you owe me!” The guard berated the other, closing the door once again. Chan didn’t dare let out a breath of relief just yet, even when the voices cut off eventually. Someone was surely still guarding the door, and he couldn’t leave the way he had come in. With the ever-brightening dawn, his chances to escape unnoticed through another route were dwindling, too.

Suddenly, voices neared yet again, though not from the door. Chan stared in mild horror at one of the bookshelves on the wall that must be hiding a secret passage; a passage that was now being used and leading people to this study without a single place to hide!

“Minho, no time! Here, your robes; the gong rang!” The attendants voice sounded from behind the row of books.

“Already? It’s barely daybreak…!” The prince grouched, but the attendant was relentless.

“You know the rules. As soon as the gong rings, you have to appear and let whoever rang it hear the riddles.”

“Fuck’s sake, Changbin, I know the damned rules! Alright, give me the stupid robes. What’s in the pockets?”

Shuffling noises sounded behind the bookshelf.

“Same as yesterday, I didn’t have time to change it. And watch your language, if your father hears the words you use when you think no one hears, we are both done for!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Quick, let me; I can dress myself. Go fetch something else for my pocket; I can’t take the same as yesterday! What if someone saw since then and answers the first two riddles and then knows the answer to the third…?!”

“You know full well the possibility of that happening is almost zero, stop fretting.”

“Until it’s not zero, I will always fret! Now go!”

“Like hell! You can’t dress yourself for shit, if I let you step on that damned stage looking like this, my head will be the first to roll today! That’s not a sleeve, dumbass, put your arm through _here!”_

“I’m only doing this once, and then you better get me something to replace this with! And from now on, make sure you replace the item in the evening, so this doesn’t happen again!”

Slowly, the voices faded in the distance, always bickering, and Chan caught himself with an amused smile on his lips. The prince and his attendant were truly something, it almost made them likeable in Chan’s eyes.

Quite a bit calmer now, Chan waited for the herald to announce the first suitor of the day to take the riddles on the stage outside, as well as the arrival of the prince, before he slipped into the hidden passage and left the study himself. No doubt it led to the prince’s chambers, but he had to be careful not to run into the attendant there. In any case, the passage was shrouded in shadows, and he felt much more at ease there. Somehow, he was bound to find a way out of the castle once again.

***

Three suitors lost their lives on the stage in front of the castle that day, and Chan was sure it would have been more if more had made it through the rigorous pre-selection he had heard of before.

To be formally announced, suitors had to go through an inquiry conducted by the king’s advisors, and their selection criteria were strict. It wasn’t easy to pass; almost only royalty and nobility made the cut. And yet, it wasn’t only those that passed who got to take the riddles. Enough people tried without passing the inquiry, but were mostly held back by a tight ring of guards. Still, bribery and trickery helped another few through, and a number of people sneaked through unnoticed. A series of traps awaited those, but not all of them fell into those.

Chan observed the mechanisms carefully from afar, watching countless suitors try their luck, almost all of them failing before even getting to ring the gong three times as was required to summon the prince with his riddles. Once the gong was rung, so it appeared, there were no more obstacles other than the prince’s riddles, and anyone who got to that point really got to take them, no matter their background or origin.

It was truly a wicked process, and while it was certainly dishonest, Chan was admittedly impressed by its complexity. Still, he’d figured it all out now, and if he wanted to, he could easily bypass the pre-selection process and ring the gong, solve the riddles, and wed the prince. If he wanted to. But did he?

The prince didn’t want to marry, and Chan had no interest in the prince himself. And yet, he honestly contemplated if he should use his knowledge and take the riddles. Oh, what a spite it would be, to his own court as well as the Light’s! His royal father would likely rage himself to death in anger over his own son, even if a bastard and estranged, marrying a mortal enemy of his court! And the King of Light, wouldn’t he do the same once he was given no choice but to honour his promise to give his son away to an enemy offspring or die shamefully if he broke it?

For all the suffering both tyrants rained on the world, they deserved such a humiliation!

Aside from that, if he took the riddles and married the prince, the fruitless search for a spouse would come to an end, and no more foolish suitors would have to die…

Chan didn’t contemplate for too long, coming to a decision rather quickly, in the end. That evening, he snuck back into the palace. There was only one thing left to do, other than getting to the stage and ringing the gong, that he had to get out of the way before the prince would be bound by his and the King’s promises to present Chan his riddles; and that involved the prince’s robes. It took him longer than expected to scout out where the robes were kept at night, but of course, it turned out to be in the attendant’s chambers.

Luckily, the attendant’s chambers were connected to the prince’s, but also had a door leading to a service hallway. Now, if he could lure the attendant out of his chamber and keep him busy… A plan formed in his mind, and he put it into practice by releasing a shadow snake in the prince’s chambers. It was a harmless creature, one Chan usually conjured to scout for him, but that had no offensive powers whatsoever. It was, however, smart enough not to get caught and killed, only showing itself long enough to scare the prince in the middle of the night and make him call for his attendant, and to keep the two of them busy for as long as Chan needed.

Once the attendant left his chamber to assist the prince, Chan snuck into the room and toward the neatly hung ceremonial robe. His life on the road, far away from palaces and attendants, had taught him many useful skills. One of those skills came in particularly handy tonight, and Chan made quick work on the robes before using the shadows to slink out of the palace again. Before he left, he made a show out of letting his snake escape through the window so both prince and attendant would get at least a few hours of sleep that night; he was crafty, but not cruel, after all. And the prince’s sleep would be cut short soon enough.

***

It was early in the morning, dawn only just breaking, when the sound of the gong calling for the prince’s riddles rang three times through the city.

In the diffuse lighting of the early dawn, a figure stood proudly on the raised stage, contours and features clear even in the low light.

Somewhere in the castle, the prince cursed at the lack of sleep he was getting as his attendant chased him out of bed and helped him into his robes hastily. A herald stumbled out of the castle before anyone else, darting up onto the stage to announce a suitor had come to take the prince’s riddles. Sleepily, a crowd gathered slowly, until eventually the prince himself showed himself.

Dignified, but with an expression that clearly stated he couldn’t wait for the head of whoever had cut his nightly slumber short to roll off the stage, the prince climbed the steps and came to a halt in front of the figure that was waiting there patiently.

“You’ve come to take my riddles, stranger, to become a part of the Court of Light; and yet, you couldn’t wait until light actually shined upon the world, choosing such a forsaken time to have me come out?” The prince’s voice was even, but having heard the prince curse before on multiple occasions now, he could hear the venom between the lines.

“I’m afraid now is the only time I could make it, my prince. I apologize for rousing you this early, but it couldn’t be avoided.” Chan’s tone was light and placating, but it had no effect on the prince.

“Since you are clearly in such a hurry, let’s make this short.” The prince straightened his posture, glowering at Chan. “You have one attempt to answer each of my riddles; though I bet you won’t even be able to get the answer to the first one right! You’ll never see it, even though it’s right in front of you!”

Chan smiled confidently as the prince worded his riddle the exact same way as he had the first time Chan heard it.

“The future is not for anyone to see, my prince. Now, may I hear the second riddle?”

The gathered crowd in front of the stage waited with bated breath, not having heard such an answer, and so confident, before. Nor had they ever seen the face of their prince express such an expression as it did now, his features slipping out of his control for a moment as incredulity and a hint of fear appeared in his gaze; though Chan was sure he was the only one to see that last one before the prince schooled his expression into a confident and neutral one once again.

“Very well. See if you can answer this, then: The next sentence I say is true. The sentence I said before is false. Which one is wrong?”

Truly, an impossible question to answer, everyone present must think. And yet, Chan’s confident smile didn’t waver.

“You, my prince, since neither can be said with the other being true.”

The silence following this answer was deafening, as if the entire city was holding their breaths, waiting for the prince’s verdict. Surely, no one who gave such a daring answer would be left alive!

And yet, the prince could be seen clenching his hands into tight fists in his sleeves, his entire body trembling for a moment as he realized two out of three of his riddles had been answered correctly. This time, the fear in his gaze didn’t recede quite as quickly, but it was hidden under a layer of anger instead. Without confirming whether the answer was the right one or not, the prince forged ahead with the last question, confident it was impossible for this person to know the answer to it.

“What’s in my pocket?!”

A murmur went through the crowd; what kind of riddle was that?!

“Hmm… What pocket, my prince? Your robes don’t have any pockets…”

A triumphant smile painted itself on the prince’s face, ripe with relief.

“Wrong! Guards! Off with him!”

Chan didn’t struggle as the guards seized him, his smile not dimming in the slightest, either.

“Oh, really? Well, my prince, care to show us those pockets you have, then?”

The prince, already on his way off the stage, stopped and turned around with a haughty look, reaching for his pocket. Instantly, his expression froze over as his hand made contact with the expanses of fabric covering his waist, where his pocket should be. With controlled, measured movements, he looked down to check, his hands wandering, trying to find the opening in the folds, but found nothing. His gaze and searching became frantic, trying to find the pocket, and in the meantime, the guards released Chan once again.

“How- how can this be? There- It had- There was a pocket! Right here!”

But now, nothing could be found, no opening, no pouch beneath. Only a very keen eye would have found where Chan’s stitches held the once parted fabric together, and only in proper lighting. Now, in the muted light an hour before sunrise, there was no trace of any pocket to be found on the prince’s robes.

“The prince’s third riddle was answered correctly, too…! He has a spouse!” The whisper started, and as soon as it left the first mouth, it was not to be stopped as it spread among the crowd, soon turning from a whisper to a clamour, rousing whoever hadn’t been roused yet in the entire city.

The prince staggered, all composure leaving him, and he fled the stage towards the castle in a haste.

Escorted by guards, Chan followed at a more leisurely pace, being shown to the throne room. Long before he reached the doors, however, he could already hear the prince’s desperate pleas.

“Father, please! There has been foul play! The last riddle, that shouldn’t have been the answer! The robe had pockets, it did; and there was something inside just last night after we put it away!”

“Silence, Minho!” The king’s voice rang coldly. “What does it matter, now, if it had pockets or not! The whole city – no, the entire kingdom – knows of the stranger who solved your riddles by now! Too many have seen with their own eyes that your robe had no pockets, making the man’s words true. There is no use wailing now!”

Still, the prince didn’t give up just yet.

“But Father! We don’t even know who this man even is! You can’t marry me off to a complete stranger; for all we know, he could be a criminal!”

“And our promise clearly states that even should he be a criminal, if he answers the riddles correctly, he shall be pardoned and receive your hand in marriage!”

A guard broke away from the formation escorting Chan, hurrying ahead to announce their arrival to the king and prince, and moments later Chan stepped into the throne room.

Upon entering, he found the King sitting on his throne, while Prince Minho was in the process of hastily getting up from a kneeling position on the floor to his feet. A glance at the prince’s face revealed a desperate, even fearful expression that seemed completely out of the prince’s control. Chan found himself feeling almost bad for him; almost, until he remembered the coldness with which the prince sent countless suitors to their deaths.

Contrary to the Prince, the King showed perfect composure as soon as Chan entered, graciously accepting Chan’s deep bow.

“Congratulations, stranger. You’ve answered all the riddles correctly; it takes a special kind of intelligent and cunning to achieve such a feat. I believe you’ve come to claim your prize…” The waved a hand in Minho’s direction, who stood tall now, though his face betrayed how dejected he was, his expression near lifeless in its misery.

Chan inclined his head in a put-upon show of respect, irked by the way the King spoke of his son as if he were a mere object. He knew first-hand how that kind of humiliation felt, and wished it on none; not even the Prince of Light.

“Thank you, my King. Indeed, I’ve come to claim prince Minho’s hand in marriage. For when shall the ceremony be held?”

“He is well-spoken!” The King exclaimed in delight, causing Chan to nearly roll his eyes at the superficial man, before he continued to actually answer Chan’s question “Tomorrow, with the first rays of daylight. We shall not keep a gentleman like yourself waiting to claim what is by right yours!”

With every word the King spoke, Prince Minho looked more like his will to live was seeping out of him, though didn’t protest and didn’t abandon his position.

“I shall await the moment eagerly, then.” Chan inclined his head again, moving to excuse himself from the unpleasant company. Before he could, the King called him back, though.

“Say, young Lord – for surely, that must be what you are – what court do you belong to, and what name should our priests join my son’s to?”

As much as Chan had pretended to want to beat a hasty retreat, this was exactly the moment he had waited for.

“I am known as Chan, first illegitimate son of King Changhoon of the Court of Umbra.” He announced calmly, watching with satisfaction as the King’s expression fell and morphed from polite to incredulous to terrified to furious.

“You! A shadow-fae?! You dare- Guards! Seize him! Execute him!”

Chan remained calm as the guards rushed towards him, lazily raising a hand.

“Nuh-uh, hold up!” At the unexpected reaction and order, the guards actually halted. “Your promise to every suitor was that no matter which court, no matter whose offspring, no matter what social rank or previous story, all would be forgiven and forgotten if the three riddles were to be answered correctly. So, what are you doing, ordering me to be executed? Are you breaking your promise?” A dangerous light shone in Chan’s eyes, and the King paled as the promise about to be broken seized his heart and squeezed painfully in warning.

“I answered your riddles, and a promise is a promise. Break it, and I will claim the price.”

The fae couldn’t break their promises, paying with their life should the one the promise should have been fulfilled to demand it. In that moment, Chan held the King of Light’s life in his hands, without a single guard or weapon by his side.

Off to the side, the Prince looked torn and fearful between his father, the King, and Chan, the unknown. Should he wish for his father to proceed, forfeiting his life to save him from this marriage, or to relent, save his life, and ruin Minho’s?

The struggle was written clearly on Minho’s face, so much so it began to dawn on Chan just how much the Prince must want to escape this life and marriage, if he was willing to see his own father die for it. That was one sentiment he could understand and respect, no matter how gruesome and cruel it might seem, though, and a new idea, a new approach, started to form in his mind.

“I have a proposal to make.” He announced, his voice surprisingly amicable given the situation of power he was in. “Prince Minho doesn’t want to marry me, milord the King is prejudiced against shadow fae, and I am indifferent about this marriage, and quite bored. So, why not spice things up a little?” He smiled winningly, gaining only nervous looks in turn, though.

“Now listen closely: my true name isn’t Chan. But, if you can find my true name before the first rays of the sun touch the highest pinnacle of the castle tomorrow morning, I promise to give up my claim on Prince Minho’s hand and will run myself through with my own sword, freeing you both from your promises. If you can’t find my true name before that, however… I’ll wed Prince Minho, and with that wedding, the entire Court of Light relinquishes any and all power you have over him to me. Henceforth, he is to only follow _my_ wishes and commands, go wherever _I_ want him to, associate with the people _I_ want him to, do whatever _I_ say. How does that sound to you?”

Prince Minho looked as if he’d been made to eat several lemons and told to keep a straight face throughout it all; the King looked as if he was about to throw caution to the wind and order his guards to execute Chan regardless of the consequences for himself and his son.

“And if I deny your proposal?” The King eventually pressed out between clenched teeth.

“Then I’ll marry Prince Minho regardless, join your court, fight you tooth and nail over every decision regarding Prince Minho that displeases me, and spend the rest of the time sitting in the shadows and worry you sick over whether I am a spy for my father’s court or not. And should I ever hear the slightest indication of a plot against my life once I become too uncomfortable… You best start sleeping with your eyes open and every last tiny corner of your rooms brightly lit!”

The King and Prince exchanged a silent look, the Prince’s pleading, the King’s contemplative, but Chan could already tell that they were going to accept his proposal. They believed themselves to not have anything to lose and everything to win. Chan left them the illusion, allowing them to hope as he left the castle to return to the inn he was staying in while in the city. It was impossible for them to find his true name, for only his mother had ever used it, and only when it was just the two of them. Only to his mother was he Christopher; the rest of the world knew him as Chan, if they knew him by a name at all.

The King couldn’t know that, however, and in no time, hundreds - no, thousands! - of guards, emissaries and spies were sent out, searching high and low in the entire city, country, and far beyond its borders, even deep into the territory of the Shadow Court for the true name of the Shadow King’s first bastard son.

The day passed without any news, and as the evening progressed to night, visible nervousness settled upon the inhabitants of the castle. Guards were sent out to find Chan eventually, becoming gradually more cross even with their own citizens when they couldn’t find him.

Of course, Chan had long since expected that as time progressed without a response from anyone sent out to find his name, the King might order him captured and tortured until he revealed his true name. Therefore, he’d decided to hide in the shadows hours ago as a precaution, and wandered through them to spy on the royal court to pass the time instead.

The King was brooding, increasingly ill-humoured when not just the search for the name, but also for the shadow fae himself remained fruitless. He cruelly punished whoever brought back bad or no news, later moving on to consult his advisors on how to deal with the situation should Prince Minho end up having to marry the shadow fae. Unsurprisingly, the consensus was an ‘accident’ eventually that would put Chan out of the way.

Chan was honestly disappointed at the lack of creativity, and abandoned the King and his advisors to spy on the rest of the court instead. That soon turned out to be more infuriating than anything else, though: those with influence over Prince Minho discussed what a shame it would be to lose such a powerful tool; those without influence over him actively hoped for the Prince’s disappearance, hoping to ascend in influence themselves to fill the space he’d leave behind. Both were disgusting to Chan.

In the end, now actively avoiding most members of the court, Chan found himself spying on the Prince himself.

Prince Minho was in his chambers, lying sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling while his attendant sat next to the bed on a recliner, examining the stitches with which Chan had sewn the pockets of the Prince’s ceremonial robes shut.

“Do you think he’ll take me away from here?” Minho asked into the silence of the room eventually.

“If he’s smart – which we know he is – then yes. I don’t doubt it.” The attendant answered honestly, and Minho hummed.

“I wonder if him taking me away isn’t the better option after all… I… I really want to be out of reach of the influence of this family…”

The attendant hummed pensively. “Maybe it is. You’ll have to answer to only him and no one else. But you don’t know if he’ll be cruel to you or not, and if he is, there is nothing your family can do to help you.”

“Even if they could help me, you know as well as I do that they would only do it if it brought them any benefits. No, I’m on my own when it comes to that either way.”

The attendant nodded pensively, turning the robes in his hands into the light and running his fingers carefully over the seams Chan had made, still more focused on the fabric than Minho, but answered anyway. “You have a point there. If you really mean it that you would prefer a life of travelling freely in poverty than this stifling court life, then maybe it would really be best if his name isn’t found…”

“I think… I think I hope his name isn’t found…”

Chan found himself smiling, whether in mirth, genuine amusement, derision, or something else, wasn’t clear even to himself. He decided he had spied enough, though, leaving the castle to take a rest in a quiet place instead as he waited for the morning; it wouldn’t do to show up overly tired to his own wedding, after all!

***

The morning sun doused the highest pinnacle of the castle in its light, marking the deadline Chan had set, and Chan stretched languidly before stepping out of his hiding spot and nonchalantly strolling up to the castle. He was let inside without any fuss and brought before a King in disarray and a surprisingly well-rested-looking Prince in the throne room.

“Good morning, my King; dearest fiancé.” Chan greeted with a smile that bordered gloating as he directed it at the King, and decidedly more neutral towards the Prince.

“You are in a good mood today; what makes you think we haven’t found your true name yet?” The King challenged, clearly affronted by Chan’s good-natured smile.

“Your bad mood, my King. Had you found my name, you’d be gloating about it, demanding I stab myself right now, in this instant. Since you aren’t, I’m assuming self-mutilation isn’t required this fine morning; but I believe there is a wedding to be had?”

If glares could kill, Chan would have been no more than scattered ashes on the floor under the fiery gaze of the King. All the glaring in the world couldn’t do anything, though, and the long-since prepared ceremony was finally held, joining Chan and the Prince in marriage. It was a short and glamour-less ceremony, as none of the palace-dwellers deemed it a cheerful enough occasion for extended festivities.

Chan didn’t mind, at all; he wasn’t in the mood for fake smiles and two-faced pleasantries, looking forward to leaving the castle and the Court of Light as soon as possible. Therefore, he didn’t care about the rumours that would likely spread like wildfire as he requested for a private room for him and the Prince right after the ceremony, either. Honouring the agreement Chan had with the King, making him the only person with any say or influence over the Prince’s life, they were dismissed to the Prince’s chambers, to which Minho led Chan nervously.

“No need to be so skittish around me. I don’t want anything from you.” Chan reassured Minho as soon as the doors closed behind them. “The only reason I wanted to talk to you privately is to discuss where we go from here.”

Prince Minho couldn’t have looked more surprised. “How so?”

Chan shrugged, wearing a nearly bored expression. “I’m leaving. Today, still. I am quite tired of this castle, this city, already. As for you, you’re free. I don’t care what you do; stay, leave, whatever. It’s up to you. Your family has no power over you anymore, and I don’t believe in ordering others around. Your life is yours now.”

It took a while for the Prince to understand what Chan meant, his face lighting up. For the first time, Chan found he truly looked like a fae embodying light, with that hesitant, still incredulous but oh so hopeful smile blooming on his face.

“Really? I- I can leave?”

Chan nodded once. “Your wish was to be free, wasn’t it? I’m granting it to you now; consider it a wedding gift, if you wish.” He chuckled, then turned to leave. “Farewell, husband.”

He didn’t quite make it to the door before Minho appeared in front of him again, blocking the exit.

“Wait!” The Prince exclaimed, and Chan raised an inquiring eyebrow. “You- you’re really leaving? If you are… Can I come with you?” He asked, hopeful, and Chan felt almost bad for having to smash those hopes.

“No. You are a prince, used to the comforts of a life of luxury. I am a vagabond, and I don’t plan to change that any time soon. The life that I lead is not for you.” He replied matter-of-factly, and yet he could already tell that his words had little to no effect on the Prince.

“I may have grown up surrounded by luxury, but I am over it. I want to live the kind of life you live; I want to learn to live the kind of life you live. It has been my wish for a very long time now; since long before you came around.”

Vaguely, Chan recalled having heard the Prince voice that kind of thought before, when he had first listened in on him and his attendant. And yet…

“The life of a vagabond isn’t just freedom and exciting adventures. It is full of discomforts and hardships. You wouldn’t last a month out there; no, you wouldn’t even last a week on your own!”

Prince Minho still didn’t back down, despite the dire prediction. If anything, it steeled his resolve.

“Take me with you, then! Teach me; lead me. I will follow your every word, I promise!”

Chan frowned, displeased.

“I already told you I don’t believe in ordering others around.”

“Then ask me nicely, and I’ll still do whatever you ask. Please. I have to get out of here, but wouldn’t know where else to go. I’ll leave, either way, but as you said, I probably won’t last long on my own. So please, just let me come with you!”

Chan’s eyes widened slightly. Surely, this prince wouldn’t-

Ok, he probably would. He was a prince, and princes weren’t known to back down just because some commoner told them to. Even if they were married to said commoner. Minho would totally run off half-cocked and get himself killed in no more than 48 hours.

“Let’s make a deal, instead.” Chan eventually proposed, not wanting to feel responsible for becoming a widower so soon. “You can come with me, but just for a month. If you endure, don’t hinder me, adapt well to life on the road, and we get along, you might be allowed to stay longer. If you fail to meet any of those requests, whenever I deem it unbearable but at the very latest after a month, you’re leaving, and won’t bother me again.”

Prince Minho thought the proposal over carefully, then nodded. “Agreed.”

Chan inclined his head, too.

“You promise to abide by my terms?”

“I promise!” Prince Minho promised confidently. “Perfect! Now, what of my things do you suggest I take that would be useful in my new life?”

Chan paused mentally, then exhaled slowly, praying for patience.

One could only hope that this prince’s determination and tenacity would reflect in his will to learn what Chan could teach him. If they did, Chan could maybe even see a future for this prince out there on the meandering roads and paths he travelled himself, far off the luxurious life he’d grown up in.

**Author's Note:**

> If you, too, would like me to write a story for you, head on over to my twitter, [@writtenonwings](https://twitter.com/writtenonwings) , to find out how.


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